


Until I Saw The Sea

by Kyl0R3n



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mer!Kylo, MerMay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyl0R3n/pseuds/Kyl0R3n
Summary: The air is as salty and thick as brine, wind whipped and almost sticking to Hux’s skin like the stinging tendrils of the strange manner of creatures he imagines lurking in the depths of the dark water that stretches from the cliff side...(MerMay contribution ft. Mer!Kylo and sad boy Armitage Hux)





	Until I Saw The Sea

The air is as salty and thick as brine, wind whipped and almost sticking to Hux’s skin like the stinging tendrils of the strange manner of creatures he imagines lurking in the depths of the dark water that stretches from the cliff side. He takes a deep breath from his perch on the balcony of the manor. The thrum of music is barely audible from inside, some classical piano piece. So very like his father to try to woo his guests with such a thing. As if the sound of Chopin could somehow make being in Brendol Hux’s company less of an excruciating endeavor. As he drinks the last of the contents of his wineglass down, Armitage Hux grimaces and shakes his head.

 

He imagines himself elsewhere, in a large university library, a favorite daydream of his during these frivolous dinner parties. The warm glow and smell of old texts is certainly a welcome fantasy, especially with the current chilly sea breeze that reeks of sand and fish.

 

Hux sighs, wishing he was there now, pouring over some random research topic of the day. It was a ritual of sorts. After engaging his students in his ethics class, he would dismiss them, hoping they would take their lessons with them. Then he’d wander to the library on campus, his briefcase filled with papers to read and grade, a task that didn’t take Hux long. He had an eye for constructive criticism and spotting imperfections. He was hard, but his students loved him.

 

When the words on the papers began to bleed together or lose their meaning, he would pause his grading and open whichever book was most suited to his area of interest that week. Because of this, Hux prides himself on knowing a considerable number of things in different areas.

 

Except dinner parties.

 

Most especially these dinner parties.

 

Hux is familiar with dinner etiquette, familiar with the architecture of his father’s home, the math behind the ornate structures, the different complimenting color swatches of interior decorations, and the history behind each scarce knick knack placed upon shelves in the minimalistic rooms....

 

But catering to the guests and (exceptionally even more difficult) his father is a foreign language to Hux. A difficult one like Mandarin, not one of the five he’s nearly fluent in by now.

Hux looks down at his empty wineglass, considers going in for more, comes to the conclusion that it’s really not worth it, and sets it down on a wicker table on the balcony. He shrugs off his dinner coat and lays it on the table as well, before starting down the steps that wind down off the side of the balcony.

 

The grass on the cliffside is wet underfoot from the rain earlier today. It’s actually rather calm now, though. The grass glints under the moon, which is momentarily freed from passing clouds in the inky sky. Hux stares out over the sea again, moving out precariously close to the edge of the cliff to glance down at the waves smashing against the rocks far below. An uncomfortable prickling on the back of his neck causes him to back away.

 

The view below once consumed his thoughts as a boy. It was a silly thing, really, wanting to hurl himself over this exact cliff when life began to feel like too much.

 

At least... it’s silly now.

 

Ten year old Armitage (Armie, his mother used to call him, though this is irrelevant now) would give thirty year old Hux a smart kick in the shin for underestimating the severity of his hopelessness.

 

Hux his pulled from his thoughts when he catches sight of something in the churning black waters;

 

A faint red glow, just below the surface, that pulses like a heartbeat and glides along the cove.

 

Hux narrows his eyes, blinking a few times to make sure he hasn’t simply had too much to drink. He watches as the source of the light moves through the water, staying far away enough from the waves breaking against rock.

 

He shifts through the contents of his mind, searching as if pulling books from the shelves of a library.

 

Species native to these waters that are bioluminescent. With _red_ bioluminescence?

 

Hux has heard of a red tide, but it illuminates the waves blue at night. In fact, oceanic bioluminescence is nearly always blue.

Even stranger than the red glow is the sudden wave of excitement and wonder that passes over Hux. He hasn’t felt this enthused since coming to this blasted estate. As he watches the light glide away, the impulse to follow is impossible to ignore.

 

Hux moves away from the cliff side and crosses by the estate gardens, to a path that leads down to a private beach. Despite his eagerness, he takes his time going down the slippery slope. The last time he traveled down the path was when he was still a boy, and it’s weathered down even more since then from the years of sea blast and rising tides.

 

When Hux finally steps into the wet sand, the excitement in his chest feels like it’s been ruptured. The glow is nowhere to be seen.

 

He scans the dark waters of the cove for any sign of red but is met only with the gentle push and pull of the tide stretching into the expanse of night. Hux curses under his breath, but realizes he shouldn’t feel let down. What was he going to do, anyways? Go for a swim in the dark towards the mysterious light? He shivers a bit at the thought of the deep, dark void of the water.

 

Hux turns and heads back up the slippery hill, only nearly losing his footing twice. He grimaces as the house comes back into view, and hesitates, contemplating going back down to the calm beach, red glow or no red glow, simply to stay away until the guests have gone and he can sneak back into his old bedroom.

 

“Ah, Armitage!” Hux nearly flinches as he hears his name called. “We wondered where you’d gone!”

 

Hux clears his throat and approaches the back patio towards Peavy, an old friend of his father’s. The portly man is having a smoke.

 

“Just for a stroll.” Hux feigns what he hopes looks like a genuine smile. “I suppose I figured things were wrapping up. I saw some people taking their leave.”

 

Peavy claps Hux on the back, much harder than he was ready for. “Nonsense! Your father was just telling us the story of when you were a lad and got trapped in the wine cellar!” He chuckles.

 

Hux can feel a warmth stain his cheeks pink. “Brilliant. That’s always a, um, good story.”

Peavy chuckles. “Bless you, you weren’t a very impressive child. You’ve grown into quite an accomplished young man from what I’ve heard, though.”

 

“Yes, I suppose.” Hux makes his way to the balcony steps. “Actually, could you excuse me? I left my coat up on the-“ He gestures to the balcony.

 

“Yes, of course!” Peavy waves it off. “Nearly finished here anyways.”

 

Hux ascends the stairs, the scent of cigarette smoke making him crave one as well. He shakes it off as he pulls his coat back on. He hasn’t smoked in years.

 

Before going back into the house, Hux casts one more glance to the cove. Perhaps he’d only imagined the glowing red light.

 

No, he thinks as he picks up his glass from the wicker table and opens the double French doors, he isn’t  drunk enough to deal with his father and his stuffy friends, he certainly isn’t drunk enough to imagine strange creatures lurking below the water’s surface.

 

_____________

 

The churn of the water intimidates him. Standing on the dock doesn’t seem like a good idea. The tide feels like it’s rising beneath his feet, yet he can’t go back, can’t even turn. He’s stuck in one place at the edge of the weathered wood, captivated in a sense, by seemingly nothing. The cove stretches out in front of him, the waves swirling like feathered strokes of a paintbrush, but there’s nothing exceptionally incredible about this view, only foreboding. He needs to go back to shore, an urgency vibrating in the back of his skull as he feels the water begin to lap at his toes. It’s rising now. It’s at his ankles, his knees, but he can’t move. He finds himself staring down fearfully, afraid of the creatures that lurk in the waters reaching out with tendrils, with gaping jaws and pulling him under. The water reaches his hips and he cries out in fear. The abyss is going to suck him up.

 

“Armitage!”

 

A sharp rap on his bedroom door startles him awake. Hux shoots up in bed, staring deliriously at a spot on the wall.

“Why have you locked your door?! Open it this instant!” His father’s voice booms through the heavy wood.

 

Hux hastily slides out of bed and yanks a pair of sweats on, still a bit disoriented. He takes a deep breath to regain his composure before opening the door.

 

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize I had overslept.”

 

“Why is your bedroom door locked?” Brendol fixes him with a steely, suspicious look.

 

“Habit, I guess.” It was partly true. Hux’s original intention was to lock the straggling party guests out. Locking people out was the habit.

 

Brendol scoffs. “I’m going into town. Don’t run off before I return. We have an important matter to discuss.”

 

“That’s fine. I don’t have to be back until Sunday evening anyways.”

 

Brendol simply grunts and leaves Hux standing disheveled in his doorway.

 

He groans as soon as his father is out of earshot and rubs over his face. Shower. Hux feels the need to wash the remnants of the social event off him.

 

Hux adjusts the tap in the bathroom and undresses. As he stands under the water, he can’t help but have a chill despite the warm temperature, the nightmare still creeping around in his head. He scrubs his scalp a little too hard, as if the shampoo will cleanse the frightening imagery of the rising waters from his brain.

 

His mind wanders to the red light he saw last night, and a mental battle of sorts plays in his head. He wanted to investigate further. But what if the water comes and swallows you up? Well don’t go onto the dock, obviously. It’s light out anyways, you won’t be able to even see a red light if there is one. Nonsense, you’re only thinking that because you’re afraid.

 

Afraid. A perpetual state he lived in as a boy. It had truth to it, of course.

 

Armie was afraid of everything. Armitage isn’t.

 

...mostly.

 

Hux huffs and as he cuts off the water, resigning himself to further investigation.

 

Armitage isn’t afraid of a little sea water. Armitage lives for discovery and adding to his expanse of knowledge.

 

Outside, the sky is a slate grey, but not heavy enough to indicate rain. The wind has picked up in the wake of yesterday’s storms. It’s hardly noticeable on the beach, the worst of it breaking on the cliffside that surrounds the cove.

 

Hux cups his hands over his eyes, gazing out over the water. He begins to realize that maybe the fearful side of his brain was right; there’s no way he’ll be able to see that red light in this brightness.

 

He walks along the beach. It’s barely a mile long. Hux frowns as he approaches the dock and stays far away from it. It’s construction definitely looks more hazardous since the days he’d wander down it as a boy. Maybe time simply eroded the impressiveness away.

 

Hux suddenly catches sight of something that draws his attention away.

 

Red.

 

There’s red in the water, but it’s not a source of light. The color is opaque and thick as it blossoms out from one spot, spreading over a spot on the surface.

 

With a sickening lurch of his stomach, Hux realizes that it’s blood. He backs away, half wondering if the surreal scene is another nightmare. The red quickly begins to dilute into nothing, but Hux is still shaken.

“Fucking... hell....” He mutters, turning to go back down the beach. Fuck this. He didn’t sign up as an extra in the movie Jaws.

 

Hux doesn’t make it far before he hears a loud splash and a sickening splat behind him, something heavy falling onto wet sand. Whatever it is missed him by only inches. He turns and claps a hand to his mouth at the sight.

 

A half, an almost perfect half, of a large fish stares blankly up at him. Of course it’s the head. If any manner of half of a massive fucking fish fell from the heavens to land next to Armitage fucking Hux, it would be the head. The mouth is gaping and the glassy eye stares at him an a permanent state of shock, the entrails sprawled along the ground behind it.

 

Hux scrambles away from the horrifying thing, looking around wildly. Someone must have thrown it at him. But his father’s estate was remote. Hux looks toward the sky. Surely a bird dropped its lunch? The sky is empty, and this specimen is far too large for a bird to haul.

 

Hux hurriedly kicks sand over the disgusting sight and runs back to the path leading up the hillside, not caring about the dangers of taking it so fast.

 

Luckily, he thinks as he makes it to the back patio, no one was around to witness how foolish he probably looked clambering up the hill in fear. Hux swears under his breath, a shiver passing through his body as his mind casually holds onto the mental image of the bloody fish head.

 

Something strange is going on at this beach, and the sooner Hux can return to the warmly lit setting of the library he’s clinging to so tightly now, the better.

 

___________

 

By the time Brendol’s car rolls up on the gravel drive, Hux is sitting up on the balcony again, the traumatic experience from earlier lost in the novel he’s currently reading. He stands as he hears the driver’s door slam shut, and wanders down the balcony steps.

 

“Need any help?” He calls to his father, who only grunts and gestures to the trunk before lighting a cigarette.

Hux opens it and begins to bring the grocery bags inside. By the time he’s sorting perishables from non-perishables, Brendol comes into the kitchen, hanging up his coat on the hooks by the garage door.

 

“We’re not entertaining more company, are we?” Hux hears the bite of dread in his question, but only half regrets it.

 

“No, no. Beruits declined my business offer. I suppose your suffering was all for naught.”

 

“Beruits would be a terrible investor. They hardly have enough to pay their employees living wage. And I wasn’t suffering, just” He huffs as he places some fruits into the produce drawer of the fridge. “I just... get overwhelmed with that many people.”

 

“A weakness you need to grow out of. You’re an adult now, Armitage. There will be times when you’re expected to present yourself in a formal setting and be social.”

 

Hux makes an impassive noise and begins to stock the pantry.

 

Brendol clears his throat. “As a matter of fact, that has something to do with what we need to discuss.”

 

“What, am I to be the planner for the next dinner party?” Hux grumbles.

 

“Watch your tone, boy.” Brendol snaps.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Brendol studies him with his steely gaze. “Come this fall, I’ll be stepping down from my position as CEO of First Order Industries.”

 

“What?” Hux turns on the spot.

 

He never thought his father would ever consider retiring. Brendol Hux was a workaholic, always. Work came before everything in his life. His wife, his son, all of it.

 

“May I ask why? Are you ill?” Hux looks at him, skeptical, as if he’ll double over and begin coughing up blood right then and there. Then again, Hux can’t see his father giving up his work, even if he did have the consumption.

 

“Not ill, no. Just getting older. I want to retire. I’m tired of the frivolities, the dinners, the groveling for investors. I’ve done my time, and I’m only stepping down with the understanding that someone who’s hopefully as equally capable will take my place.” Brendol begins preparing a pot of coffee.

 

“Oh.” Hux stifles his disbelief in the matter. “I suppose the board is electing the new CEO then?”

 

Brendol scoffs. “Of course not. They have a sense of business, not politics. No, I’ve picked my replacement myself.”

 

“Let me guess,” Hux says, resuming his work in the pantry. “Peavy?”

 

“Heaven’s no. You think I don’t know the earth’s biggest brown nose when I see it? Never mind, Peavy is older than me.” Brendol pours himself a cup. Straight black and as bitter as him. “You’re going to replace me, obviously.”

 

The abruptness and heaviness of the statement takes a moment to settle with Hux. He stops organizing the spice rack and turns his gaze to Brendol.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you deaf, or just stupid, Armitage? I said you’ll be the one to replace me.” Brendol sips his coffee and grimaces.

 

“I’m a professor! I have a life, father!” There are so many points in the argument against Brendol’s decision, Hux doesn’t even know where to start. The feeling of rising, hazardous waters begins to consume him even more than his nightmare. “I have students that enjoy me. I haven’t dealt with your business practices since my internship at the company, and we all know how that went!”

 

“Enough.” Brendol holds up a hand, which effectively silences Hux. They both know what follows if he continues speaking out of turn, though the thought of Brendol beating Hux now is almost comical; Hux is nearly a half a foot taller than his father these days.

 

Regardless, Hux falls silent.

 

“Your job is mediocre, especially in comparison to the offer I have lined up for you. I haven’t spent years building this corporation from the ground up to have my son, a perfect candidate to take my position, get cold feet over this proposition.”

 

Hux fists his hands at his sides. “I like what I do. I’m good at what I do. I can’t just pick up everything and-”

 

“You’re an ethics professor at a second rate University. You’ve never married, never even given me grandchildren. You’ve done nothing to utilize the lessons I’ve tried to teach you. I’m offering you power. Money. An opportunity like no other; an opportunity to make something of yourself!”

 

Hux feels his face warm. “You know why I haven’t- married or given you grandchildren.”

 

“We won’t go there, Armitage.” A cold fury flashes through Brendol’s eyes. “I thought I had reconditioned you properly after your little stint with that other intern. Don’t stand here in my kitchen and tell me your preferences are still perverted.”

 

Hux feels a deep well of shame in his chest. He hasn’t thought about it in a long time, being discovered with the dark haired boy he’d been partnered with, both of them pressed together in his office, tongues sliding desperately against each other, only ceasing to breathe fevered promises to run away together against their heated skin, to run away from this silly little corporation run by men who didn’t understand what they felt towards each other...

 

“My preference is my work.” Hux folds his arms. “At the university. Where they treat me well, and I can engage my students and myself. I’m not cut out for a job like yours.”

Brendol studies his son, malice in his grey eyes. “All these years, all the lessons I’ve tried to teach you, and you’re still a weak-willed whelp of a boy.” His tone is calm, but venomous. “Go, then. Go back to that school of yours. A little Nancy boy professor has no business running my company.”

 

Hux opens his mouth to respond, Brendol’s words hacking into a long time scar seated deep in his ribcage. “Father-“

 

“Go.” Brendol sets his coffee down and pulls his coat back on, patting the pockets for his cigarettes. “I’m done with you.”

 

Hux tries not to wince as the back door shuts hard, tries to ground himself after the unexpected bomb went off, filling him with verbal shrapnel. Shellshocked. A good word for the ringing in his ears, and the sick feeling of dread in the back of his throat, taken from the pages of the many war memoirs he’s read.

 

There’s a faint rumble of thunder from outside as he finishes with the pantry and goes back to his old bedroom. Hux falls onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He’s going to pack up his things tonight. Definitely. With any luck, he’ll be on his way back home before sunrise tomorrow. Back to a life so different than the one he has here.  

 

CEO of a large Corporation. He scoffs at the idea. In what universe would he even be remotely cut out for such a position?

 

One, perhaps, where his father had groomed him successfully, he supposes. One where he wasn’t “weak willed”, “perverted”, or any of the other flattering adjectives in Brendol’s arsenal.

 

Hux turns on his side and sighs, thinking back to how it was before. His mind drifts to when this house was occupied by a normal family. A strong willed man who built a company from the ground up. An even stronger willed mother, who managed a floral shop in the local town as well as her stubborn husband. A weak willed but happy boy, barely in his school days, who didn’t yet stare longingly down at unforgiving waves and jagged rocks, who didn’t fear the depth of water or the mysteries it held...

 

_________

 

Hux stretches and sits up. His room is dark now, and a light rain patters against his bedroom window. It slowly occurs to him that he dozed off. The house is quiet, and he wonders if Brendol has gone to bed already. He goes to the window and stares out. He always admired the view of the cove from here, able to effectively watch the tide without smelling it or feeling the stickiness of the wind.

 

The argument from earlier looms over him, thicker and darker than the churning waves outside.

 

But Hux suddenly forgets all about it. Unmistakably, a red glow darts through the waves. He watches it move, its pattern erratic unlike the last time he saw it.

 

The prospect of running into his father on the way out doesn’t occur to him until he’s in the foyer, pulling on his shoes and tugging on his jacket. He keeps on ear out, but the house is dark and completely silent.

 

Hux grabs a flashlight from a drawer in the kitchen and slips out the back door, passing the gardens and keeping his eye on the red light, afraid to lose it again in the murky depths. He prays to whoever’s listening that the rain stays the light mist it’s settled at, the flecks of water dancing in the flashlight already making it difficult to see.

 

As he reaches the bottom of the path to the beach, he turns it off and pockets it before carefully approaching the water’s edge, unsure if it’s the chill in the air or the sight of the ominous glow beneath the surface making him shiver.

 

He notes its strange behavior as he watches. Yesterday, it was leisurely moving through the waters of the cove. Now it’s darting in different directions, slowing, then speeding. Hux watches with bated breath as it turns towards shore. He moves back a few paces, but it changes direction again, going further out.

 

He wishes he’d brought a sketch book or something. The sight is unforgettable enough, but he’s afraid he’ll miss some crucial detail that might help him as he pours through whatever marine life field guides he can get his hands on back home.

 

Suddenly, the light disappears again, flickering out to nothing like his flashlight. Hux waits and watches. It all seems rather anti-climactic.

 

As minutes pass, he begins to feel his prior excitement ebb away and begins to hypothesize where it’s gone. Perhaps it dove to feed? Or perhaps it’s asleep?

 

More time passes, and Hux can feel a sort of desperation wash over him at the prospect of it not coming back. This, he realizes, is all he has here. He’s been stuck at this estate for only a week this time, yet the recent excitement he’s experienced over something as trivial as the wandering red glow is the first he’s felt this childlike wonder since....

 

Honestly, since the accident.

 

Since the strong willed man turned into a cruel, unforgiving man, since the even stronger willed woman went for a drive on a rainy day and never came back, since the weak willed but happy boy began to fall apart, began to erode away like wave worn rocks at the base of the cliff side-

 

“Fuck!” Hux clambers back and falls on his ass, not realizing just how close he had wandered to the water until something surfaces right in front of him, thrashing and screeching a horrible sound. He turns and scrambles away from it, suddenly remembering with a horrible lurch the sight of the bloody fish’s head from earlier.

 

He fumbles around for his flashlight and tries to regain his footing in the wet sand as the creature beaches itself, its violent thrashing turning into aimless flopping as it exhausts itself. Without the moonlight, Hux can barely see it, only making out a silhouette as its screeches grow raspy and labored.

 

He keeps his distance, finally managing to pull out his flashlight. He swallows heavily as he turns it on and casts the light onto the creature. At first, all Hux can see is a massive fish tail, swaying and twitching. The horrible thing, he realizes, is tangled in a thick net, which has frayed the delicate red fins and is tight enough to cut into the inky black scales.

 

Hux’s heart pounds when the creature shifts and the light suddenly illuminates a human. A man. At first glance, Hux’s stomach heaves as he sees a giant fish halfway through swallowing this man, but then his mind begins to process it; the giant tail... belongs to the man.

 

Impossible.

 

Hux doesn’t have time to deliberate. The creature begins crawling onto the shore, grabbing fistfuls of sand with webbed hands to pull itself towards him. He backs away more, his heart racing.

 

Surely this was another nightmare. Another casual reminder from his subconscious that he fears the dark sea and the terrifying things that lurk in it. That he has no control here.

The monster lets out another gargled screech and the thrashing tail illuminated red down the sides flickers like a dying light. It writhes and reaches out to Hux with a clawed hand. Hux moves quickly up onto the path, even further out of reach.

 

“What do you want?! What are you?!” He raises his voice fearfully.

 

The creature’s screech softens to a deep groan and it goes still, the netted tail flopping into the surf with a splash and its head falling to the sand. The red glow fades again.

 

Hux clings to the flashlight with trembling hands and draws his coat tightly around him as the rain grows steadier, unsure of what to do. The creature is clearly in pain, based on the rattled groan it’s emitting, but he still can’t get over the utterly bizarre appearance. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He fully expected to see some sort of unnamable terror from the depths emerge, but this thing... It has a name.

 

Siren. Mermaid.

 

Fantasy.

 

Hux shakes his head, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. There’s no such thing.

 

And yet, there’s no other word to describe the being in front of him. Hux approaches, wary. The creature is shivering now, and with its tail mostly hidden in surf and sand, could easily be mistaken for just a normal man.

 

Hux carefully moves closer, his first instinct to check for a pulse, but he draws his hand away with a grimace. Deep slits on the monster’s neck open and close. Gills.

 

This is simply too much. Hux backs away again. He’s most definitely dreaming. This thing doesn’t need his help because this thing doesn’t exist outside of story books and his nightmares. He pockets his flashlight and wills himself to go back to the house, wills himself to not look back at the pathetic thing lying on the beach.

 

Hux pulls off his soaked shoes and coat, shivering as he steps into the cold foyer. An impulse, juvenile and foolish, to run upstairs and wake his parents like he used to when he had nightmares as a child crosses his mind. His father would grumble that it was just that; a nightmare. But his mother would embrace him. She’d take him back to his room and rock him, humming a lullaby and whispering things like “Mummy’s got you, darling” and “You’re my brave boy, Armitage”.

 

He peels off his wet clothes when he’s safely in his bedroom, unsure if he’s still dreaming, never remembering having this much control in them. After pulling on a night shirt and fresh boxers, Hux falls into bed again, sighing into his pillows.

 

There is no merman beached in the cove right now.

 

There are no parents to wake up for reassurance.

 

And first thing tomorrow, he resolves as he closes his eyes, he’s going to pack up his things and go back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm hoping to finish this by the end of May, but we all know how bad I am with deadlines ha
> 
> Also, come find me on tumblr and shout at me about my bullshit;  
> werewolf-kylo-ren.tumblr.com


End file.
